Cross Wired
by HarleyQuinn4242
Summary: Ichigo's life was part of a perfect system, his fate predetermined before he even left the womb. So how is it that less than a year before he's supposed to have finally achieved the ultimate goal of his path he finds himself unhappy with his fate, short of set expectations, and worst of all, Cross Wired to a blue-haired Mechanic? GrimmIchi, AU


_Entry 1: May 2, 2253_

I flinched and watched with wide brown eyes as my instructor cracked the bow against the head of my chair, so close that I could feel a breeze next to my ear, her eyes closed and a taut frown on her lips.

The sharp sound echoed in the barren, white-walled music room, the resulting shards of wood being the only thing to litter the frigid cement floor. The cold, austere classroom was near-empty, holding only my wooden seat, a few violin cases, a piano, and small mahogany cabinet filled with various music necessities. The unadorned walls were thick, completely soundproof, as was the windowless black metal door.

"I suggest you leave Kurosaki. Don't come back until you have a new bow." My instructor's voice was ice, leaving no room for argument.

"Yes, Soi-Fon-sensei." I stumbled from my perch on the hard wooden chair, quickly bowing to her trembling form before swiftly placing the delicate violin into its case, minus one bow.

I heard her knuckles tightening on the remains of my bow, and Soi-Fon's petite frame was quivering with fury. Despite her small stature, I had heard from previous students of hers that her temper was a force to be reckoned with, so I hurried to pack up with a nervous sweat pooling on my brow. Stepping over the shattered remains of said bow, I darted out of the music room, hearing several more crashes in my wake as I darted down the hall.

_Damn, Soi-Fon is a scary bitch!_

I let loose a sigh of relief to be out of the tense music room, taking the reprieve from the ice queen's wrath as a chance to stretch my coiled muscles. Then, just as I felt the stiffness of that lesson slide off, I tightened back up and scowled, internally cursing my dad for deciding my next instrument was going to be violin. My first lesson, and I already knew that this was going to be another hated instrument, despite the fact that by the end of the week I was expected to be proficient. I had already managed to break the strings in the bow. Six times. Apparently that was all it took to make Soi-Fon snap and break the whole bow. But I still had to go back to that tiny room and force my way through my loathing of the instrument, and a healthy fear of the teacher, to mastery. After all, isn't that the job of an Entertainer? But I knew that I wouldn't be good enough. Violin, my sixth instrument, was not going to be the perfect one. The moment I picked up the instrument, I knew that it wouldn't be the one for me, but old goat face had insisted that I try, and now I was going to have to spend every waking moment for at least a month practicing an instrument that I would never be good enough at. I'd master it, of course, but that doesn't cut it in my world.

I slouched through the small white hallway in steaming silence, passing several doors, some with windows and some without. Glancing through one of the few doors with a window, I caught sight of one of my closest friends, Orihime Inoue, playing her chosen instrument of harp. A gentle smile was on her face as she practiced, and I felt an ugly stab of jealousy. My scowl now even larger across my face, I strode past her practice room before she caught sight of me.

Perhaps I should explain. I'll start as the story is told to every child as soon as they reach the third grade, and before they are forced to split off into their chosen Path in the fifth grade. There was a war. No one quite knows when it began, seeing as it was never officially declared, but we all were witness to the effects. This war was destined to be the most violent in history, the weapons being used in it were by far the most destructive, and they left us with very few natural resources to live by. Not only that, but the world population was demolished. I'm told that there were once billions of people residing on this planet. I'm told that there were once issues with overcrowding, with the balance of resources being distributed unevenly throughout the planet's nations. That's gone. There are no more nations. There is no more overcrowding. The idea of billions of people on this planet is laughable to those of us alive now. Even if we had the resources to replenish the population, our system is only efficient for a certain amount of people. And anything that doesn't fit the system is dealt with.

You see, after the war ended, things changed. Or so I've heard; I'm not completely sure as to what the world used to be like. The war ended in 2100, on the first day of January, revealing to the few civilians that survived the winning party. They, or we, don't have a name. We don't need one, because after that day we became the only faction of people on the Earth. We have a total of five large fortresses set up around the world; that's how many we could sustain after the war. The one of my residency is the only one in a land that was once named Asia, but now is nameless. These fortresses are basically the only places inhabitable now because after the world was destroyed most of it either became the barren wastelands surrounding the fortress I reside in, or they regrew as the harshest forests ever known, filled with plenty of wildlife just waiting for some juicy human to become their meal. Walking into either one of those was now considered pretty fucking stupid. The worst nightmare of anyone inside a fortress is getting kicked out, which is probably why we all put up with the ridiculous class system we're born into.

Things inside the fortresses are very strict, every move you make recorded, filed, and stored in the Defenders' system. Which brings up our new way of life. In this world you are born with your entire life decided by your mommy and daddy's path. Whose life was decided by their mommy and daddy. And so on. You are born into your path based off of whatever path your parents shared, which also makes it illegal to marry with someone of a different path because that would ruin the chance to class your kids into a path. It's considered high treason to have romantic relations with someone of a different path, otherwise known as Cross Wiring. My parents were Entertainers, which slotted me into what was by far the rarest path, seeing as entertainment is ranked pretty low on the scale of necessity. However, despite the importance, being an Entertainer was considered one of the highest paths around. We lived a very comfortable life, working only as often as someone calls for us, living in very nice apartments, wanting for very little. This is considered the easiest job compared to the Laborers, who toil all day everyday for our food, the Defenders, who live a perilous life defending our fortress and monitoring the inside, the Scientists, who spend all their time studying and inventing our world, and many other paths that don't receive any of our luxury.

I would trade all of that in an instant.

I hate my path. Of course I'd never admit that our loud to anyone because it'd be regarded by the Defenders as a threat to our system and treason, but it's the truth. I'd throw away every bit of my luxury for an inch of freedom, for a time to just relax, or to run. Entertainers don't get any of that. Not only, due to being so close to the top, are we watched and observed constantly, but every waking second of our life has to be spent on practice. We practice constantly as soon as we reach the fifth grade and are forced to begin working on our acting skills. Three years are spent on that, and then as soon as we master that art, we move onto singing. Let me tell you, those were two years of absolute hell spent under the wrath of a very flamboyant man named Yumichika. Sometimes I still have nightmares of being forced to practice whistle tones for hours on end. As soon as that ends, we move onto writing. And then painting. It goes on, the list of skills growing until we reach age fifteen, when we are expected to find our chosen instrument, the instrument that we will be known for and called upon for. From the moment you choose it and prove your affinity to it, that instrument becomes your everything. It's said that as soon as you pick it up, you'll know that it's the one.

I'd call bullshit on that, but I've seen the way other Entertainer's eyes will light up when they find theirs. Lucky bastards.

We're given until age 18 to find our chosen instrument, and no one in history so far hasn't managed to do this. I say so far because I'm pretty sure I'll be the first. I'm already 17, and haven't found it yet. The last of my age group found theirs a month ago. My birthday is in December.

Which brings me back to my slightly irrational anger towards Orihime, who had fallen in love with her very first instrument at age 15, the harp. I was, although I would never admit it out loud, completely jealous of her for finding her instrument so effortlessly the very first day we had been introduced to them. Not even Ishida, who was by far the most studious out of our age group, had found his that quickly. At the time I'd been getting some twisted satisfaction from watching the way Ishida's eyes had burned with envy of Orihime, but now I found myself on the same page.

I pounded down the last flight of stairs still with a scowl on my face, but it was quickly covered by a clear breathing mask I pulled from a small rack by the door and pulled on. Entertainers were one of the few who had the luxury of fresh air and a mask, seeing as the respiratory system was particularly important for our work. Taking one last breath of clean air, I lifted up the hatch on the metal door, stepping into a wave of smog and sound. Coughing slightly on the polluted air despite my mask, I winced at the harsh booms of metal gears and the never ceasing resonance of shifting iron and steel.

My warm brown eyes squinted against a sudden wave of steam that spewed from some nearby pipe, leaving them watery and burning. I quickly ducked through the heated water, carefully picking my way across a broken sidewalk, no doubt broken from some fallen pipe or beam (they constantly fell in our city), that would undoubtedly be fixed by some Builders by the end of the week. As soon as I passed the broken patch of sidewalk, I turned my gaze back to the city, taking in the familiar sight of towering metal buildings that blocked out the gray sky. We didn't dare to expand outward of the city walls and into the wastelands around us, so we built our city up into spiraling metal skyscrapers that blocked out the sky. Only the very rich lived high enough to view it. There were many covered bridges and roads connecting buildings, so the ground was mainly reserved for the very poor to travel due to the dangers of falling items and vicious critters.

Normally no Entertainer in their right mind would come down here, but my favorite music shop happened to be here. So I continued deeper into the winding paths, glancing around cautiously. The narrow paths were mostly bare in this area, only a few people walking so close to buildings that led to higher levels, but rats were a huge problem in this area. The things were nasty, growing bigger than cats and meaner than anything.

Keeping my ears open for scuttling feet, somehow growing up surrounded by the hiss of steam and clang of metal allowed me to tune out the constant background noise, I passed several alleys and tightly sealed metal doors. I quickly made my way around nameless street corners, having each twist memorized based purely on direction, not pausing once to take in the sights. Not only was every door and building face near identical, but down here people weren't exactly welcome towards strangers. Once on my path I glanced at a door only to see a pair of watery silver eyes staring back at me just before the door slammed shut, the sound of several locks clicking into place following.

I shivered, quickly scurrying on.

I rounded one last memorized turn, stopping in front of the only painted door, a cheerful yellow. I cocked an orange brow at the bright door, which just last week had been painted blood red. That old man never could decide on a color. Shrugging off the change, I pounded on the door harshly.

The first time I warily approached this place, I had marveled over a grass green door, both thinking that whoever owned this shop must be crazy to stand out this much and that the door was one of the brightest things about the ground level.

"Oi! Open up!" My voice could barely be heard over the noises around me, but I knew that someone inside would hear me.

After waiting impatiently for a moment, the door creaked open to reveal a small girl with large, sad purple eyes and dark hair that flopped into her face. She stepped back, allowing me to enter the dark shop. It wasn't really specifically a music shop, because although it had music items, it also had pretty much everything else. The main room was cramped with shelves overflowing with items ranging from industrial strength wires to paintbrushes, random boxes even littering the floor. I stepped into the mess, already familiar with the chaos of Urahara's shop. I made a beeline to the music corner, stopping to look at violin bows with distaste as I called back to the girl.

"Hey Ururu, is Urahara here?" I looked back at her as my fingers closed around a bow.

She shook her head no, heading over to the cash register by the door, the only spot in the room that was slightly tidy.

I grimaced at that, knowing he would complain to no end later about missing "his favorite Entertainer."

"What about Tessai?" My brow wrinkled slightly as she shook her head again, wondering why they'd leave Ururu alone, before it hit me. "Ah, you graduated last week. You can start working as a Merchant now, right?"

"Hai." Ururu finally spoke up, her voice soft and shy.

As I picked my way over to the register, I glanced at the shiny new badge on the left side of her chest, the coins on it symbolizing her new position as a Merchant, with no small amount of envy. It only took two years of training to become a Merchant, and while they weren't exactly rich, they certainly lived pleasant, easy lives. Lives where they didn't have to hold an instrument all day. Lives without the constant practice. Lives out of the eyes of the constant watch of the Defenders. Shaking my head to get rid of my envy over a child, I passed over my ID to be scanned for payment. As she handed it back along with my new bow, I smiled at her.

"Congratulations Ururu. May your path serve you well." Ururu nodded at my customary words, and I quickly parted after that, knowing it probably wasn't a good idea to keep Soi-Fon waiting.

I stepped back into the smog and steam of the outside world, making sure my mask was still in place first, and began making my way back to the tall music building I had come from.

I was so focused on dreading the return to that demonic instrument that I didn't hear the scratching at first. By the time I did notice it, I turned just in time to dodge the fist that flew at my head.

I stumbled back and into a metal wall, off balance from my quick dodge, staring wide eyed at the two men before me. They were both tall and muscled, but they were also pale and had hollows in their cheeks that were obviously from lack of food. One had thick brown hair and an intimidating scowl on his face, but the other, with deep black hair, looked slightly nervous, his blue eyes darting around and an unsure set to his shoulders.

It wasn't that they attacked me that startled me so much, it was simply the fact that they attacked at all. Any form of crime was so very rare here; no one wanted to get on the wrong side of the Defenders. But here I stood, backed against a wall as the brunette stepped forward again, puffing up as though to attack again. I moved to dart away, my brain finally processing the danger, but the man lunged at me, far faster than an Entertainer who sat all day playing instruments, and tossed me to the ground. Spots filled my vision as my head collided with a broken chunk of sidewalk, and I sat stunned for a moment.

Just as my vision cleared, the brunette slammed his foot into my side, his black haired friend standing back. I grunted, rolling with the force and trying to scramble up despite the explosion of pain in my side, only for a harsh yank on my orange locks.

"You're disgusting." The voice that spoke into my ear was cold, calm, despite the violence that just occurred. "Why'd you come down here Entertainer? Did you come to rub your fortune into the faces of us Groundcrawlers?" He shoved me onto my back, and it clicked into my head as soon as I looked at his ripped and stained shirt.

He had no badge. He was pathless. A quick glance at his companion confirmed that he was also pathless. Either the product of a Cross Wiring or someone who'd failed their path. Either way, it was surprising that they'd survived long enough to reach adulthood without any work, and also no surprise that they wasn't scared of the Defenders. Why be scared of the law when you weren't even in the system?

This knowledge quickly led me to the conclusion that I was about to die. Probably ransacked for anything of value in the process, and then left here to rot.

It was that knowledge that had me tackling his legs from my spot on the ground, grunting as my head swam. The brunette cursed, kicking at me as I tried to take him down. Hid friend merely watched, clenching his hands as though to jump in, but at the last moment backing away further and further. I wrenched myself up the kicking man, aiming a punch for his gut. It connected, but it was clumsy and had little effect against his muscle. Despite my sudden will to fight, my body wasn't used to violence and I was easily thrown away once the man gripped my hair and tossed me to the side.

I tried once more to crawl away, but was kicked down again, in the same spot on my side as before. I heard a sharp crack, and a cry escaped my lips, the bottom one now split from a fall while my mask had cracked and fallen off, leaving me to gasp in toxic air. I was rolled over once more before I was lifted up by the neck of my shirt, coming face to face with the brunette, whose eyes I dazedly noted were dark green. He was close enough that I could smell his foul breath, but I could only flinch as he tugged me closer.

"You think you're so above us, but you're not. We're the same. This means nothing." At the last sentence, he ripped off my musical not decorated badge, taking a chunk of shirt with it, and tossed it down a street drain.

I only gazed after it, not fully comprehending what was happening. I glanced back up at the man just as his fist came flying into my temple. I flew to the ground, my vision quickly dimming as pain bloomed on the side of my head.

The last thing I heard was a shout from his nervous partner and the steady beating of metal.

* * *

**A/N: Woo! Okay this story just hit me and I couldn't _not _write it! I already have a whole plan and complicated twists and everything! I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter! Don't worry, Grimm-kitty will be in the next chapter! (: Please review! Okay bye lovelies!**

**Word Count: 3,472**


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